Some time back, a friend suggested I
read the autobiography of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I finally started
it about a month ago - I'm a slow reader. I didn't plan it but I'm just
about finishing it up - right as we celebrate the Nobel Peace Prize winners'
birthday today.
Coincidently, this Thursday, there's a
lecture at the University of North Carolina - Asheville (UNCA) by Michelle Alexander. Michelle, the author of the
best-seller, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of
Colorblindness, will deliver the keynote address for the UNC
Asheville’s annual Martin Luther King Jr. Week. Now, reading the book, I'm
really looking forward to it.
When I was growing up
in Forest Hills, NY (not far from LaGuardia Airport and the home of the original
U.S. Open Tennis Tournament) I attended Forest Hills High School (FHHS) for 1
1/2 years before my parents moved our family to Northern New Jersey - about 22
miles west of Manhattan.
In Forest Hills, while
there was (and still is) a good-sized Jewish population, the high school was
diverse. This was partly due to a number of kids from a Hispanic
neighborhood called Corona attending FHHS.( Corona was made famous by Paul
Simon in his song, Me and Julio Down By The Schoolyard - btw, both Paul and Artie
Garfunkel graduated from FHHS along with: Bob Keeshan (aka Clarabell on the
Howdy Doody Show who later found greater fame as Captain Kangaroo), actor
Michael Landon, Ernie Grunfeld, a star for the New York Knicks, and Gary
Kurfirst, a friend who went on to a very successful career as a rock music
impresario and manager of Talking Heads).
Growing up in Forest
Hills, I never heard any slur terms used to describe other nationalities,
races, genders or religions. Everyone got along; there were no gangs - at least
that I knew of - and we lived in peace and harmony and with mutual respect.
I moved to a suburban
NJ town in the middle of 11th grade. While it was only 22 miles from New
York City it could have been, let's say, up to 1,000 miles away - in a certain
compass direction. The high school was all white middle-class and I
started seeing and hearing bigotry for the first time in my life. I heard
slur terms used by various groups referring to ‘other groups’. It was
shocking as my parents, Lorna and Manney, taught me and my brothers, by
example, that we were all people, no matter where we came from, etc. and that
everyone should be treated equally and respected as fellow human
beings.
I consider myself very
fortunate to have spent the first 15 years of my life in New York City.
We had no fear growing up. We used to ride our bicycles to LaGuardia
Airport to watch the planes take off and land - there was an observation deck
in those days and we found a hole in a fence that allowed us to sit with
nothing between the runway and us. On rainy days we used to 'play' in the subway.
The game: we'd all (6 or 7 of us) get on one car. At each station we had
to go weave our way, in and out of the doors. Whoever got caught on the
platform had to go home by themselves.
We used to have bike
races on a painted bike track in a parking lot which became the location of the
original home of the New York Mets baseball team, Shea Stadium. We used to ride
our bike everywhere.
Having just read the
chapter in Martin Luther King's book I'll mention this past experience as Dr.
King grew to have a of respect for JFK and his administration and their
stand on segregation and the horrible related violence. It was during the
presidential campaign for the election in November 1960. Someone told us,
"Kennedy is going to speak at The Boulevard." The Boulevard was
a nightclub that was on Queens Boulevard in Rego Park, NY - just about a 10
minute (we rode pretty fast!) bike ride from P.S. 175 where we were hanging
out.
We got there to see a
huge crowd in the parking lot. We dumped our bikes (no fear of someone
stealing them in those days) and worked our way through the crowed to stand
right in front of the stage - right in front of the lectern. JFK was
running a little late but no one complained.
Finally, a black limo
pulled up and JFK walked up the half dozen steps to the stage. As soon as
he was visible, the crowd went crazy. He stood there, right in front of
us, waving to the crowd with that magnetic smile, as we looked almost straight
up at the blazing sun. He could not get the people to quiet down - keep in
mind that that area was very Democratic in make-up. King and Kennedy had
the same type of charisma. And, unless my memory has failed me - which it
definitely does sometimes - when he finished, JFK started reaching down to
shake people's hands and I believe he shook mine - or at least I touched his
hand. Similarly, one of the favorite stories that my grandmother (Ruth
Silverman) told, was when she was at Yankee Stadium and touched Babe Ruth - I
totally believe she did.
Martin Luther King,
Jr., who was assassinated at age 39 in 1968, adopted Mahatma Gandhi's belief in
non-violence as the path to effecting change. While there was violence
perpetrated against demonstrators and activists, both black and white, seeing
the end to segregation and the equality in America guaranteed to all Americans,
King and the other leaders were able to continue to reinforce the power in nonviolent
protests. How sad that he was murdered in the epitome of violent acts.
Included in King's
autobiography is the text of a number of speeches he made as well as some of
the letters he wrote. And, while I was only familiar with his famous
"I Have A Dream" speech delivered during the March on Washington on
August 28, 1963, I'm realizing what a truly brilliant writer and orator he
was.
In closing this modest
celebration of Dr. King's birthday, here is a portion of one of his speeches:
World peace through
non-violent means is neither absurd nor unattainable. All other
methods have failed. Thus we must begin anew. Nonviolence is a good
starting point. Those of us who believe in this method can be voices of
reason, sanity and understanding amid the voices of violence, hatred and
emotion. We can very well set a mood of peace out of which a system of
peace can be built.
Racial injustice
around the world. Poverty. War. When man solves these three great
problems he will have squared his moral progress with his scientific
process. And, more importantly, he will have learned the practical art of
living in harmony.
Sadly, could these
words of the great Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. be more poignant today?
Where is the Dr. King
now, when we need him? What kind of world are we living in? How far
backwards can we go after making some fairly good progress over the past 50 years, on so
many fronts? How can we explain, to our children and grandchildren, nay,
how can we rationalize to ourselves, that the bigotry, displayed by some in our nation’s leadership, seems to be acceptable? Doesn't anyone in Washington have any guts?
I'm sure, this past
week, Dr. King was trying to dig his way out of his grave (possibly Gandhi as well),
seeing that they're desperately needed again, to preach sanity in a world gone
made with hatred and violence - and way too many guns.
Is there a voice of
reason in our world to speak out and then act on what is right, what is
important to the survival of humanity? Surely, someone will have the
courage to do something; and it better be fast before somebody pushes their
button.
1 comment:
Good column Steve! I follow Rev. William Barber, the originator of Moral Mondays and a convener of groups committed to a return to ethics and morality in government and politics.
Post a Comment